


Colds + Cough Syrup

by violetvaria



Series: Stable AU [7]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Sickfic, Stable AU, dad!Jack, silliness, teen!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17772668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria
Summary: Jack Dalton was sure he had never been this miserable in his entire life. With the sniffling, sneezing, aching, coughing, stuffy head, and fever, he was like a freakin’ Nyquil commercial. Except those ads always seemed to end with the poor sufferer finding relief, and Jack was certain that was not true for him. He was clearly going to die.~~~a scene set in dickgrysvn's Stablehands + Stable Homes AU





	Colds + Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stablehands + Stable Homes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by [dickgrysvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn). 



> Thanks, as always, to the gracious and talented dickgrysvn for creating and sharing the Stablehands + Stable Homes universe!
> 
> This work is set a year or two after [**Stablehands + Stable Homes**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171), but neglects that by this time, Jack would be married to Riley's mom. Please forgive this deviation.
> 
> Warning: slight overuse of over-the-counter medication

Jack Dalton was sure he had never been this miserable in his entire life. With the sniffling, sneezing, aching, coughing, stuffy head, and fever, he was like a freakin’ Nyquil commercial. Except those ads always seemed to end with the poor sufferer finding relief, and Jack was certain that was not true for him. He was clearly going to die.

“Maaac,” he groaned, before a coughing fit curled him in on himself.

The kid must have been far enough away that he couldn’t hear. Jack flopped over in bed and stabbed a finger at the button on his nightstand. Mac had rigged it up in lieu of a bell when Jack complained it was too difficult to use his phone with his eyes crusting over and his fine motor skills deteriorating.

 

_“Geez, old man, do I need to get you one of those I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up buttons?” Mac had grumbled._

_“Be nice to your father on his deathbed,” Jack snapped._

_“Jack, it’s a cold. You’re not going to die.”_

_“How do you know, smartypants?”_

_Jack had the impression that Mac had rolled his eyes and said something smart-alecky, but he’d drifted off and couldn’t remember for sure._

 

Jack looked around. Still no Mac. He punched the red button again, hearing the gonging sound echoing in the hall.

“I’m coming, I’m coming already!” Mac burst into the room. “Give me five seconds, would ya?”

“Maaac…”

“Whaddya want, Jack? And it better not be fluffing your pillows again. I just did that fifteen minutes ago. For the third time this morning.”

Jack moaned as pathetically as he could. “Is that any way to speak to your dying father?”

“Jack, you’re not—”

“I just wanted to see my son one more time before I pass into the great beyond. But if he can’t even stand to be around me…”

“Jack!” Mac came around the bed and into Jack’s line of sight, looking exasperated. “Did you actually need something? Or did you just call me in here to listen to you whine?”

Jack muttered something about _bratty teenagers_ and coughed again. “I’m not whining,” he said aloud.

“Sure you aren’t, big guy. You’re totally handling this like a man.”

“Damn straight. A dying man.”

Mac rolled his eyes, something Jack had noticed he’d been doing an awful lot the past few days. _Kid’s goin’ through a phase,_ he decided.

“Don’t give me any attitude, boy,” he ordered wearily, his own eyes sinking shut.

There was a pause, and Jack could almost hear another eye roll. “Okay, Jack. Whatever you say.”

“That’s right. Need to show proper respect.”

“Uh-huh. You got it.”

“May be you’re graduating soon, but I’m still your father.”

“Sure are.” Mac’s voice had taken on an almost sing-songy quality, which Jack found curiously calming.

Jack wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he found himself leaning back into the newly fluffed pillows, a quilt pulled up to his chin.

“Get some rest, Jack,” Mac said softly. “I’m gonna run to the drugstore for some cold medicine, okay?”

Jack grunted, and Mac figured that was the only response he would get. He closed the curtains to help darken the room and headed out.

When Mac returned, Jack was drowsing intermittently, coughing fits rousing him before he fell back into restless slumber. It took some doing, but Mac managed to pour a dose of cough syrup down Jack’s throat with a minimum of complaining from the patient.

A few hours later, Mac was pretty sure this cough syrup was the best invention ever. Jack actually slept for a while without using his “call-Mac” button (which the kid really regretted setting up), and when he finally woke, he drank some of the tea Mac brought him.

“Not too close,” Jack slurred when Mac held out a hand for the half-empty mug. “Don’ wanna give you my germs.”

“Yeah, thanks, Jack, but it’s probably too late for that.”

Jack shook his head, dissatisfied, but he fell back down to the mattress before he could pursue the topic further.

When Mac entered Jack’s bedroom later, he heard a low chanting coming from the bed. Curious, he walked closer, his eyes widening as he spotted the bottle of cough syrup he’d left on the bedside table.

The bottle was half empty.

“No more monkeys jumpin’ on the bed…”

Mac could just make out the garbled words.

“Jack?”

“TWO little monkeys—”

“Jack?” Mac’s voice was more forceful, and he shook Jack’s shoulder. “Did you take more cough syrup?” He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered asking. The answer was obvious.

“Mac!” Jack’s face lit up in sheer delight. “Mac, there’re monkeys—no, that ain’t right.” Jack’s smile slipped into a puzzled frown. “Hmm.”

Mac checked the label on the bottle of cough syrup, and he determined the larger dose wasn’t likely to cause any permanent damage. Which meant…

Mac grinned. He really needed to get a video of higher-than-a-kite Jack.

Before the teen could pull out his phone, he was swept off his feet.

“Hey!”

Jack rolled over, one arm clutching Mac, using the momentum to bring the kid with him and toss him onto the bed. Jack was grinning goofily. “ _You’re_ my little monkey!” he announced, pleased, and an honest-to-goodness giggle escaped the man.

Mac might have been able to see the funny side of Jack’s giddiness if he weren’t squished beneath Jack’s entire weight, one arm pinned under his back.

“Jack! Hey, get off!” he wheezed as Jack’s arms closed tightly around him. “Come on, I can’t breathe!”

Mac wriggled, but Jack was almost completely on top of him, chest mashing the side of the kid’s head into the mattress, hands clutching Mac’s shoulders in what Jack seemed to believe was a fond embrace. Jack started droning about one little monkey jumping on the bed.

“Mmph.” Mac wrested one hand free and swatted at Jack’s ear. He had to repeat the action several times before Jack noticed, turning his head and shifting just enough that Mac was able to slide away.

“Mac!”

 _Sure, NOW his reaction time is as fast as usual_ , Mac thought sourly as Jack, apparently afraid of losing contact with his son, grabbed him again. But at least he wasn’t squashed underneath the man this time, so he could breathe.

“What happened to not wanting to share your germs with me?” he groused.

Jack started rubbing the blond hair as vigorously as if he were trying to build up a static charge. “Wanna share ev’ything with you, son. Love you so much.”

Mac rolled his eyes, which Jack couldn’t see since he was pressing Mac’s head to his shoulder. He probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

“Ev’ything—ev’thing mine yours. ‘Member? All—all yours.”

“Yeah, that was a nicer sentiment when you were talking about the horses.”

“Horses!” Jack let go of Mac to throw his hands up in glee. Mac took the opportunity to sit up. “Love horses! Just…love ‘em.”

“I know, Jack.” Mac pitched his voice to a soothing tone. “Maybe you wanna sleep for a while now, huh?”

“Mmm.” Jack didn’t appear to have heard. “Not ‘s much as you. Love you.”

Mac realized he should have moved out of reach when he’d had the chance. “Jack!” he protested as he was once again pulled down to the pillow.

“You—y’ my boy. Even ‘t col’ge. M’ boy.”

Mac didn’t have a chance to respond before he heard a snort and a sniffle, and then… _No way. He didn’t._

“Jack, did you just wipe your nose in my _hair_?” Mac couldn’t help that his voice rose into an undignified shriek. “Gross! Are you crazy? Ah, man, now I need a shower!”

Mac tried to roll away from the germ-sharing octopus next to him, but Jack had wrapped his limbs like tentacles around the kid, his weight paralyzing Mac’s left arm.

“Nuh-uh,” Jack was mumbling. “Don’t leave. Can’t leave.”

Although he really didn’t want to hurt his dad, Mac was considering using some of the self-defense moves Jack had taught him, and then something in the man’s tone caught his attention. He stopped struggling.

“Jack?”

The man was sniffling, but Mac wasn’t sure whether that was from the cold or from some traitorous emotions. He couldn’t exactly look up and check from where he was trapped.

“Hey, big guy, I thought you were happy about MIT,” he said softly. “You—you said you were.”

His only response was more snuffling and Jack’s arms tighter around him, which he wouldn’t have thought possible.

“It isn’t forever, you know?” Mac had been so excited, he hadn’t really stopped to consider the ramifications of leaving his family and friends behind. He felt a pricking behind his eyes, but he struggled to keep his voice light. “I’ll be back. On holidays and vacations and stuff. And before you know it, I’ll be back for good, and you’ll be missing all the peace and quiet.”

He wasn’t sure if Jack heard him or really understood everything he said, but after a few minutes, Jack reluctantly loosened his hold on his kid, perhaps out of sheer exhaustion, and Mac sat up gratefully, taking a few deep breaths. He reached over and grabbed some tissues, which he handed to a listless Jack.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” Mac scooted off the bed as he spoke, wary of being ensnared again. “But I’ll come back. Okay?”

Jack’s voice was low and muffled, but one word was clear enough. “Always.”

“Yeah, Jack. Always.”

 

By the following day, Jack felt well enough to sit up in the living room, wrapped in the Dallas Cowboys snuggie Mac had gotten him for Christmas. Mac found him dozing in the recliner when he got home after school.

“Hey, Jack, I brought you some chicken soup.” He held up a jar. “Bozer said his mom made it, but if you want the truth, I think this was all Bozer. Not sure why he doesn’t just say how much he likes to cook.”

Jack offered a tired smile. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah.” Mac fidgeted. “Um, Jack, I don’t know how much you remember about the last couple days—”

Jack sighed. “To be honest, son, not a whole lot. I think I had a dream about monkeys.”

Mac snorted.

“But I’m guessing from the cold meds and stuff I found today that you went above and beyond to take care of your old man. So thanks.”

Mac shrugged, but a faint blush tinged his cheeks. “No big deal. You’ve done the same for me. And more.”

Jack tilted his head thoughtfully and then nodded. “True enough. Pretty sure however bad I got, I was still a model patient compared to you.”

“That’s not—”

“Did I lie about my symptoms and pretend I was fine?”

“Kinda the opposite, actually—”

“So I’m already ahead of you, Mr. Thermometer Fake-Out.”

“Jack! Are you ever gonna let that go? That was _one_ time!”

“Uh-huh. Did I remember to ground you for that?”

“Uhh…”

“Don’t you dare say yes when you and I both know the answer is no.”

“Then why’d you ask? That’s entrapment!”

Jack couldn’t keep the mock-stern scowl in place. “Yeah, well, I guess the statue of limitations has expired on that one, hoss. You’re off the hook.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “ _Statute_ , Jack. Not statue.”

“Are you mocking me, young man?”

“Oh, no, Jack. I would _never_ do that.”

Jack grunted and stood. “C’mere.” He held out his arms, looking like a blue-and-white ghost in the snuggie.

“I dunno, Jack. You’re still pretty germy.”

“Too bad, kid.” Jack took a step forward and pulled the unresisting Mac into his arms. “I gotta get my hugs in now while I have the chance.”

Mac dropped his head to his father’s shoulder. “I meant it, Jack. I’ll come back.”

“Yeah. I know.” Jack was silent for a long time, reveling in the closeness of his kid. “’Cause if you don’t, you know I’ll come hunt you down.”

Mac’s nose wrinkled, but then he grinned. “Be careful with the threats, old man. I know your kryptonite now.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“A couple doses of cough syrup, and you’re out like a light. I could slip some into your soup, you know.”

Jack harrumphed. “Devious little monkey, ain’t ya?”

Mac smirked. “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, son, I do.” Jack caressed the soft blond hair, trying to focus on just this moment, this time he had with his boy. “Completely.”

Mac relaxed into the familiar routine. “Forever.”

“No matter what.”

Mac lifted his head so he could look directly into his father’s eyes. “And no matter where, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The nursery chant Jack is mangling is "Five Little Monkeys," available, among other places, [**here**](https://supersimple.com/song/five-little-monkeys/). WHY is this on his mind? I truly have no idea.


End file.
